


My Tears Ricochet

by lakeshelby



Series: Dramione Folklore [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakeshelby/pseuds/lakeshelby
Summary: I am—I was Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater and an all-around pretty terrible person.And you know what's curious? What's hilarious? That's not why I'm dead.No, no "Killing Curse hit me in the back during a battle", no "Dementor's Kiss after a long Wizengamot trial for my crimes", no "being caught as a double agent by Voldemort while Mother begs for my life".No.No-pe.I'm dead because I fell in love.I fell in love with fucking Hermione Granger and now I'm not only dead but also a ghost. Serves me bloody right.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Folklore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069802
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	My Tears Ricochet

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something different! I have been obsessed with Taylor Swifts latest albums over the last months. Put that together with my love for Dr/Hr and I came up with the idea of one-shots based on a couple of songs. Each one will be independent, hope you like it!
> 
> Special thank you to my dear beta @rhysenne.

~*~

_ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? _

_ 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'til my dying day _

~*~

People have it all wrong about how it feels to die, you know? 

Even us wizards, we think we're  **_so_ ** much better. So brave and so wise. We let magic entitle us to feel like we're superior. Ruling over muggles, goblins, dragons, elves and any other living beings. As if we're the  _ chosen ones _ select few. The all-powerful and indestructible. 

Maybe that's why it's so funny, how much we fear death. We run away from death like bloody cats from water. A bunch of fools trying to put off the inevitable. Splitting our souls in half, cursing our blood for generations, fighting wars that aren't our own. 

And for what? Just because we are scared of what we don't know. Scared to let go. Scared that our lives confirm themselves to be what they inherently are: short periods of meaningless existence. Even with all the magic flowing in our bodies.

Of course, when I was alive I was just the same. I just came to this valuable piece of wisdom after being dead. Ugh. Yes, in case you haven't noticed, I have died and I am now a ghost. How cliché of me, I know. 

But yes, ghosts have this quirky all-knowing wisdom about them, as I'm sure you know. Unfortunately, my human form wasn't so enlightened. I wasn't bloody Albus Dumbledore. I am—I  _ was  _ Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater and an all-around pretty terrible person. 

And you know what's curious? What's hilarious? That's not  _ why  _ I'm dead. 

No, no "Killing Curse hit me in the back during a battle", no "Dementor's kiss after a long Winzegamot trial for my crimes", no "being caught as a double agent by Voldemort while Mother begs for my life".

No.

No-pe. 

I'm dead because I fell in love. (The cliché continues.) 

I fell in love with fucking Hermione Granger and now I'm not only dead but also a ghost. Serves me bloody right.

~*~

_ I didn't have it in myself to go with grace _

_ And you're the hero flying around, saving face _

~*~

Getting back to the topic of 'How it Feels Like to Die'. Well, it's definitely a strange feeling. I mean, it is more than a feeling. It's a state of existence. A very permanent one. 

But it doesn't feel as awful as one would expect. What with all the blood, sweat and tears surrounding it. It's much more like a transition into numbness. Like everything about living fades out. Your senses, your memories, your emotions. People, places and time. It all just deteriorates into their most elementary versions. Up until there's nothing left.

Although I am assuming about the last part. As a ghost, I'm still around, and I'm still hanging on to some things. Emotions and people, mostly. That is what ghosts do, right? They stay because they have unfinished business and grudges. 

And I have both of these things. Very much so.

I mean, honestly.  _ Of course  _ Draco Malfoy would be a bloody ghost. How could anybody expect anything else after the life I had? All that aristocratic money, dark magic and family tragedy into one biography? Where's Oscar Wilde or Andrew Lloyd Webber to write my story when I need them? The heartbroken ghost of a reformed Death Eater. So mother-fucking poetic.

But enough mystery. I am not nearly as mysterious as I like to pretend. I will tell you, dear reader, exactly how I died. I'm afraid it's not very interesting... you will see.

**_-Drum roll, please-_ **

My death was an accident. Ha—didn't expect that, did you?

Long story short. There was a cursed Muggle artefact in my possession. I tried to destroy it and, in turn, it chose to destroy me.

Story of my freaking life, really. All that pomp and circumstance just to die a graceless death by a case of a cursed piggy bank. 

_ "Muggle artefact and Muggle-born cause the death of blood purity obsessed ex-Death Eater."  _

There is a lousy joke in there somewhere.

~*~

_ We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean _

_ Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring _

~*~

"I don't love you, Draco", Hermione Granger said to me one day as we were in the Manor's drawing room. "Unfortunately, I never have". Talk about hurt. Death feels **_nothing_** like hearing those words from the mouth of the woman you worship. 

But wait, it gets worse.

"This thing between us—I'm afraid it was all a lie." She looks at me with her full brown eyes filled with tears. Her olive skin is unusually pale. Her lips are trembling and she is fidgeting her hands on her purse string. Just a few seconds ago, those eyes sparkled at me and I had those tiny, soft hands in mine.

My mind is completely blank as I realise this isn't a joke. I lift myself up from the position I was: down on one knee. And I put away the Malfoy family heirloom I just offered her in exchange for those tiny hands in marriage. 

(Told you it got worse.)

"I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to know, it wasn't supposed to be like this." She starts to cry and I briefly wonder if I am dreaming. But my nightmares are never this straight-forward. 

I have no reaction as her voice falters through the tears. "It was just a way to get close to your family and gather information for Kingsley, for the Order..." 

As she talks, I think back on our "whirlwind romance". In one breath, the beautiful love story I was sure I was living in, transformed itself in the worst dark comedy of all time. 

And I was the butt of every single joke. 

I look at her as everything dawns on me and suddenly I realise there is something that hurts more than hearing the words "I don't love you" from her lips. It's the way I see fear dancing in her eyes. She is scared of me. The Big Bad Ex-Death Eater. The one she has been pretending to date for the last six months. 

"It was supposed to be just a couple of dates, but things got out of hand—” _ Clearly. _ She's still stuttering. What a bloody idiot. 

"Is this some kind of joke?" I find my words. "You're saying you're a spy?" As I spit them out, I hope she feels my anger. Maybe she should be scared after all.

My response shakes her into reality. She straightens herself and breathes. "Yes." My heart drops, my body still in denial. "And I am sorry that I have played with your feelings. If I had known this was where things would lead us, I would have stopped much sooner." Her eyes are half scared and half full of pity and I would like to be dead, please.

I stay quiet as I think back to how we started. Me collaborating with the Order after the war was done, helping them tie up any loose ends from Voldemort's mess. Hermione Granger being assigned as my "handler", as she knew me better than most and antagonised me less than Potter and Weasley. 

How we grew closer over interests in common. 

How she brushed past all "opposite sides of a war" conflicts between us with surprising ease. 

How she kissed me out of the blue. 

How we never had sex. 

I always just thought she was making me wait, giving us time, waiting for things to feel certain. But I was just another loose end to tie up.

"How the bloody hell did a couple of dates turn into this?" I scream as I open my arms and my anger breaks all the glasses on the cupboard behind me. 

She jumps away and covers herself from the shatters, then she pulls out her wand and I wish I could find in myself to hurt her as easily as she thinks I might. Regardless, I take my wand out for show.

"We just had to make sure that your father wasn't recruiting after he got himself freed from Azkaban." She has the nerve to send me a disarming spell, which I block with a heartless laugh.

"And how did that go? Found the 'big bad dark wizard army' under our kitchen counter just yet?" I walk towards her, stopping just inches from her face, wand at her throat and hand in her arm. "The werewolves and dementors are in the garden, between the rose bushes, of course."

"No, we know your father is not recruiting. We have known for months." Her eyes look up to me with a glint of defiance and I think back to our first and last kiss, how each and every one between those have been lies. "But I did find something else", she says as she pulls herself away from me. 

I already know what she means, but I try to hide it. 

My skin crawls with disgust at my own stupidity. "What have you found,  _ lover _ ? What crimes have I and my family unwittingly committed now?"

"You know what you have, Draco." My name sounds wrong in her mouth now, like a fake compliment. "What you have in this house and how dangerous it is."

I laugh. A very real, loud laugh.

"All of this because of some cursed artefacts? Really?" I choke the words out. I feel tears in my eyes and my legs go numb. 

"Yes. As soon as I reported about them, the Order gave me directions to keep close to you to safely get a hold of them." Her voice is sad but unwavering. "As everything in the Manor is protected by blood magic, you were the easiest link to them."

I curse the day my great-grandfather thought it wise to collect cursed Muggle artefacts. Bloody freaking idiot.

~*~

_ You know I didn't want to have to haunt you but what a ghostly scene _

_ You wear the same jewels that I gave you as you bury me _

~*~

Ever since I blew myself up, I have been waiting. 

Never quite sure for what until she walked into the drawing room at Malfoy Manor—the place where I died.

She looked different, her eyes heavy and distant. Her hair in a lazy bun like she wore when she was working all night. I watched as her feet led her to the spot where it happened and her eyes took in the mess. 

The same spot where she was tortured by Bellatrix years ago. Our spot of misery. Our spot of pain. Makes sense that it's where it all ended for me. It's my bloody house. My bloody drawing room. Serves me right for not saving her that day, or at least for not trying. 

I wonder for a moment if she might see me. I've tried showing up for my parents, but I couldn't. They don't see or hear me. Chances are she won't be able to as well. Besides, I can't stand the possibility of frightening her again, so I keep quiet.

I just focus on feeling her.

I can feel her guilt, her hurt. As much as she lied to me, of course she never planned for this. She couldn't count on such unparalleled stupidity from my part. She won't cry for me, I know this. She made it very clear she didn't love me... that she could never love someone like me.

"Merlin, Draco," she whispers to herself as she brushes her fingers on the wrecked table where I did it, "Why did you do this?" And I can feel she knows why. All for her. To show her. 

As I am evaluating the possibility of touching her or speaking to her in my current ghostly form, the door opens in one quick swift. "Miss Granger," my father speaks in his usual plummy way but his face gives his distaste away. "To what do we own this great pleasure?"

He limps through the room in her direction, I stay beside her. 

Ever since the war, he never recovered to his past self. His past mind. Maybe that was for the better, but it was also unsettling to see him try to hide it. And now, his son was dead. His only hope had died a stupid death in a stupid romantic gesture for a stupid Muggle-born witch.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to pay my condolences for your loss." Like a little lioness she was putting herself on the line, knowing full well how he and Mother might blame her for luring me to that path. The path of light and love that, as wonderful as it sounded, drove me to kill myself without meaning to.

And they did. Blame her, I mean. 

"Why thank you, Miss Granger." His tone is sarcastic and evil. "But I do hope this is truly the last we see of you."

"I—Isn't Draco getting a—well, a funeral?"

"I'm afraid it already happened two days ago." And what a bloody depressing thing it was. Just the two of them and our house elf. 

"Oh." She looks relieved, I think. "I wish you could have let me know."

"Of course we could have. We chose not to." I can see him dropping his mask. "Do you expect us to invite you to our only son's funeral, the very witch that drove him to his ruin?"

"I drove him to his ruin?" And here we go, the brave little Gryffindor standing up to the big bad Slytherin. This is exactly what I love and hate about her, how passionate she is about everything. It drives me mad. It used to, I mean. "Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy, but how about your family's obscure fascination with bloody evil magic? Didn't you ever think there's a reason objects like that are forbidden to own?" 

"You silly girl." He has to walk away and look out the window, like he can't bear the look of her anymore. He takes a beat admiring the view, it's a beautiful day outside, it's fitting. "You think we can control everything that happens in this house? What happens here is bigger than any of us. The magic that binds the Manor has been growing and feeding off our family for generations. We didn't even know about those particular objects's danger until  _ someone  _ pointed it out to Draco." His face is now half faced in her direction.

"And you think that excuses you?" She is angry; I can feel it. But then, so is he. And so am I. I hate her hero complex, and I hate his defeatist and sadistic attitude. But most of all, I hate myself and how I managed to put them into this goddamn situation. "Now your ignorance has cost you your only son!"

"No, YOU have cost me my only son!" And for the second time in her life, Hermione Granger shields herself as an angry Malfoy man unwittingly breaks glasses in her direction. Except this time I shield her too, I use all my will to block any shards of glass away from her, and I think it works—they still don't see me. 

"You think I don't know? How you broke his heart?" 

He takes out of his pocket the jewelry box I offered her that day.

She is visibly caught off guard. "I—I assumed you didn't know about us." Her eyes start to glisten but it must be just light reflections. "He told me—we were keeping it a secret." 

Silly girl. Why would I keep you a secret?

"No, Miss Granger. He had been trying to make us accept your relationship for the last six months." He lifts up the box between them and puts it down on the table. "The reason he offered you this was, I believe, to leave us with no choice."

I can feel her heart stop. She didn't expect this. 

"He loved you. He never loved anyone like he loved you. And you turned him away." Lucius Malfoy was done with this conversation. "So excuse me for doing the same. I'm sure you can find your way out?"

"Yes."

"Do me a favor and keep this? We won't have any use for it anymore, I'm afraid." He gestured for the still closed box as he walked out of the room.

And for the first time in my life, I see Hermione Granger looking completely lost.

~*~

_ And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? _

_ Cursing my name, wishing I stayed _

_ Look at how my tears ricochet _

~*~

"We have been dating for months, you bitch! Why didn't you just fucking ask, Her—" I struggle as I realise I might never call her by her first name again. I close my eyes and feel my word spinning, yet again. Yet another terrible tragic moment in Draco Malfoy's lousy rich life. "Why didn't you just ask?" It comes out like a cry.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. This was never about you." She is standing over me with that bloody look of pity in her eyes. I don't know when I slid to the floor. "But we couldn't be sure to fully trust you, yet."

I look up to see her, all of her, through my rage and tears. I still feel it. Truth is I have always felt it. 

"I love—I thought I loved you." My wand is tucked away now, my guard is down. Tears run down my cheeks as I glance at the spot on the floor where I just stood on one knee and asked her to marry me. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'm so sorry. I—I got carried away as well." She sits next to me, and the smell of her hair flows over me. "I started to get comfortable with you."

I feel weak and lost. I search for something in her eyes.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't fake our friendship or even my attraction to you, Draco—I just... nudged a little, I guess." Her expression is lighter, and she is closer, giving me hope.

I reach for her in a desperate move and, as I try to kiss her, she dodges my mouth and just hugs me. My stomach drops, and it's like the world turns into black and white. I could forgive her, I could get past this. Fuck pride, I don't have any. I just want her.

But she doesn't want me.

"Is there any part of you that could love me?" I start to beg. "All these months couldn't have been just pretending. You must have felt it too."

"We're from two different worlds, Draco. Two different sides. It just doesn't—-" She still sees me as a bad guy from a bad family. And good girls don't end up with bad guys.

I stare at her, at her eyes and mouth. "Your world is my world, Hermione. Let me love you."

"I—I'm sorry, I think I should leave." And she gets up and leaves as quickly as she broke my heart. And I decide I need to do something to prove to her that I have changed, that we are on the same side.

~*~

_ And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves _

_ You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same _

~*~

She picks up the box and opens it to see the ring that I chose to give her. From all the jewelry we had, I picked the least flashy I could find. It was a delicate silver band with a small sapphire stone—it looked like a dream and it made me feel like she did. Before I knew it was all a lie.

But the thing is, as I feel her in this room I am sure it wasn't all a lie. I can feel it now. She cared for me, she just didn't know. And I hate that I wasn't able to do anything to prove to her that I was worth it, to help her realise her feelings. Except maybe die.

And then I hear the worst sound in the world, her cry. She breaks down as she puts the ring on her finger and I feel something happening, like everything is brighter around me, and then she is startled at something in my direction.

She sees me. She sees the ghost of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco," she breathes out through her tears. I smile at her and I realise that this is what I was waiting for. She is setting me free. I needed to see her to understand that our relationship was a farce for her, but she had real feelings for me. That's why she stayed, and that's why she came back. "I love you", she whispers to me with understanding in her eyes, realising the same thing.

And all I see until I don't see anything else is brown eyes, sapphire blue and white light.


End file.
